


made of something different now

by lunarcrowley



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Academy Era, Alcohol, Angst, Awkwardness, Denial, Desire, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heteronormativity, Intimacy, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Misunderstandings, Oblivious Jim, Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarcrowley/pseuds/lunarcrowley
Summary: In their second year at the academy, Leonard realizes he has feelings for Jim.Rated E for later chapters. I will be updating tags, characters and relationships as I add new installments.
Relationships: Carol Marcus/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Christine Chapel/Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. i'm awake, at least i think i am

**Author's Note:**

> this is totally based on my experiences at college, only x100 because starfleet academy is intense. please bear with me as i write this story: it was originally supposed to be only one chapter but i love writing academy era mckirk and gay yearning! feel free to let me know of any inconsistencies. as always, you can read this as either AOS, or TOS if you squint, because i love both and i love to please everyone. enjoy <3

Leonard McCoy awoke to the sound of a door slamming. 

“Mm,” he grunted, into his pillow. He rolled over and pushed his face into it, groaning. Someone was stomping around the damned suite. And, apparently, disrespecting the doors. 

Leonard opened one eye and waited for his vision to clear. He caught a glimpse of a dirty blonde head, paired with those clumsy steps. “Jim,” he grumbled. He waved his hand as if to shush him. He couldn’t exactly remember why Jim was there, and at that moment, didn’t care, as long as he was making that racket at - he glanced at the digital clock display on the nightstand - 8am!

Jim was yanking his boots on by the door, jumping up and down repeatedly. “Go back to bed, Bones,” he said, softly, and then cursed as he straightened out his cadet’s uniform. It was terribly wrinkled.

“Can’t, as long as you’re stomping,” Leonard growled, against his pillowcase. His deep hazel eyes, peeking over at Jim, were still filled with the haze of sleep deprivation. 

Jim laughed softly, and smiled that winning smile. “Gotta go,” he declared. “See ya,” he clicked his tongue, saluted, and slipped through the sliding door. How was he so perky? 

Leonard rolled over and put the pillow over his head to block out the morning light, and went back to sleep.

When Leonard woke again, it was around 11am. He sat up, hair mussed, and sighed sleepily, his clothes sticking to him in the rising heat of the day. The starkness of the empty room shocked him.

His roommate’s bed was made neatly on the other side of the nightstand. He was gone for the weekend. Jim must’ve fallen asleep on the floor. The memories of the night before came trickling back, slowly, as Leonard allowed his eyes to adjust to the bright spring sunlight streaming through the blinds.

Jim had stayed over the night before. They’d broken into the beers in the fridge, and watched some ancient sci-fi film, stayed up nearly half the night. Leonard had only been up for it because he didn’t have classes on Fridays, and didn’t have to go in for his shift at the Starfleet Medical clinic until the afternoon. Friday was the one day during the week that wasn’t absolute hell for him, wasn’t jammed with classes, labs, internships, doctor on-call hours, his jobs as both a teacher’s assistant and a tutor, and God only knows what else. Those were just regular days at Starfleet Academy, where everyone seemed to be an overachiever.

Leonard mulled over his thoughts as he retrieved himself a cup of coffee from the kitchenette. He didn’t know why he’d let Jim stay over when he knew his friend had class at eight in the morning. As he selected the coffee pod to put in the brewer, he noticed the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the counter. So, it looked like they’d made another bad decision somewhere in there... that explained the dark blanks in his memory. Leonard cursed aloud and slammed its cap back on, and put it in the cabinet. How could he be so reckless?

Really, he hadn’t expected to stay up as late as they did. Or drink as much, on a Thursday night. And he thought Jim would somehow make it back to his own dorm room before - oh, it must've been four or five in the morning, when they fell asleep, now that he searched his boozy thoughts. It was just, when they got to drinking, and joking, it was hard to quit and come back to reality. At least there was no hangover as far as he could tell. Next year, Leonard was considering just applying to have Jim as a suite mate, maybe save himself some grief. Or, more likely, cause himself an absurd amount of it.

Usually, when Thursday rolled around, Leonard could hardly stand to think about work, academic or otherwise, until at least Saturday, except for his shift on Friday. Thus far, said shift really only required he show up, know his shit from medical school, and be attentive. Nonetheless, most Thursdays were for taking a breather, having some alone time, maybe getting a head start on next week’s reading, and having maybe one glass of bourbon. This was the routine he had developed from the fall term of their first year, and it had carried over into the second year, of which they were now broaching the end.

Every so often, Leonard would be tempted into hanging out with Jim on a weeknight, interrupting the routine and causing him to reset. By now, late March, it felt like he had been at Starfleet Academy for longer than four terms. And, final exams were looming on the horizon. But Leonard had decided, for now, not to worry about that - he had other things on his mind.

Once the instant coffee was done, Leonard sprinkled in sweetener and poured in some fancy hazelnut creamer he’d decided to try, to satisfy his sweet tooth. It wasn’t too bad. He did prefer fresh brewed coffee, but it was so hard to find that kind of brewer these days. Too archaic. Even this coffee-pod thing was considered out of date, in favor of replicators.

Leonard sighed and frowned as he thought of Jim being late to class, getting reprimanded, and being drowsy and irritable all day, and it was all his fault. It made him feel heavy with worry and guilt. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to relax, feeling the hot ceramic of the mug against his palm. 

He didn’t remember every bit of the night before. Some pieces were missing, but he did remember a lot of laughter, and... the warmth of Jim’s shoulder against his, the smell of his hair. The movie in black-and-white flashes, the haze of the orange wall lights, the tang of the sour beer. Jim's hand on his arm.

At one point they had switched to listening to nostalgic classical tunes on Jim’s old record player, which he had lugged over from his dorm. It still sat lopsided by the holoscreen, record sleeves leaning up against it. Leonard remembered singing along under his breath, Jim's hand slapping his thigh encouragingly until he actually let the verses fly.

Where had those hands touched him? What had Jim even slept in, if not his rumpled uniform? He had slept on the floor, right? Or had Jim... slept in Leonard’s tiny twin bed with him, unclothed, and he’d slept right through it? Surely he would remember something like that, even drunk off his ass...

Leonard shivered and forced the unsettling string of thoughts to a close as he finally sipped the hot coffee and swallowed it. It burned all the way down his throat. There was no sense in thinking that way of his best friend of two years. No sense in it at all.

He couldn't go back to sleep now that he was awake, despite the feeling that his entire body was yawning as he stretched. What class did Jim have, anyways? Probably a command simulation, or field training. Leonard’s guilt would ensure he checked in on Jim’s well-being, knowing he may have caused distress. He was never sure when they'd meet up again, in all the hustle and bustle of the campus and all their activities during the day. Jim was just as busy as Leonard, if not more, with all his high-reaching ambitions. But at least it was Friday...

-

Leonard's mouth was dry for his entire shift at the medical center. He hadn't heard from Jim - maybe he'd just gone back to his own room after class to sleep. Or gone to hang out with someone else. He knew a lot of people. Like he should... he didn't always drop in to the clinic pretending to have a migraine, or a small cut, or a head cold, just so he could chat with Leonard. But sometimes he did. 

Leonard cleaned the shining silver medical instruments in front of him quickly, but thoroughly, the disinfecting towel flashing in his deft hands. He had just finished performing a procedure, to stitch up a minor cut caused by glassware that belonged to one of the chemistry labs. Damn kids were always breaking something in the science department. He’d have thought, since most of the cadets had already done some kind of university education, that they would have learned how to properly handle beakers and graduated cylinders.

His mood wasn’t as sour as it could have been, because the kid hadn’t been too much trouble, and his colleagues were surprisingly staying out of the way today. The only issue was, Nurse Chapel was busy in another wing of the building so he couldn’t chat with her, and of course, no surprise visits from Jim.

In the mindless work he now had, of cleaning, Leonard’s mind drifted. His guts were starting to twist with worry, with a heaviness of missing Jim, of caring for him more than he ought to. He had become accustomed to the feeling. But he had refused for so long to give it a name. It was just, how he felt about Jim. 

"Leonard?" 

What did it mean, anyway? He was just his friend. His friend. But this feeling, it was overwhelming. He'd thought about it before. But why couldn't he get it off his mind today? What had changed? They had done this so many times before. Jim was his every day, his best friend. Something was just... different now. Something was shifting abruptly beneath Leonard's feet, pulling the rug out from under him, and he didn't understand why. Or at least, he was too stubborn to let it make sense.

"McCoy!"

"Yes, sir,"

Leonard gently put down the instrument he had scrubbed to sparkling, and it clinked against the metal tray. He was wearing a hard frown on his brow, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the anxious motion. It was one of the senior medical officers who headed the facility.

"I think you've quite cleaned that, don't you think?" the Commodore laughed, softly, and his raised eyebrow lowered. 

"Yes, sir," Leonard said, with a curt, respectful nod. He looked down, embarrassed that his fruitless thoughts were consumed with his friend. And, truthfully, he was shocked at his own disarmed demeanor.

“You okay, McCoy?” the Commodore asked, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Just fine, sir. Just worried about getting things clean, is all," Leonard nodded, and bit the inside of his lip. Shame bloomed over his face in a warm red. His arms folded behind him, his body went rigid, and he bounced on the balls of his feet. As he often did, when nervous. 

“Alright. Take it easy, cadet,” the man said, as he smoothed out his own white Starfleet Medical uniform. “You’re a good officer."

Leonard frowned, but nodded once more. “Thank you, sir.”

He wanted to mouth off so bad, because of how insecure he felt, and how vulnerable, but he knew better than to jeopardize his chances for promotion. He was still just a second year, after all, and his snarky comments might not fly with the superiors just yet.

The Commodore gave Leonard an encouraging smile, and slid away into the bright white tunnels of the facility.

Once he was gone, Leonard braced himself against the counter and huffed. The pit of his stomach was tight as a knot. Perhaps he hadn’t eaten enough. But he knew it was really because of this mounting, incomprehensible, nameless feeling. The thought made his mouth tighten into a small line.

Only another hour of standing around, waiting to be of help to the higher ranking officers, before he could release the tension that clamped his muscles.

-

“Bones!”

Leonard felt the clap of Jim’s hand on his shoulder as he exited the medical facility that evening, sweat already beading on his brow in the hot California dusk. He jolted, and turned abruptly to the very object of his stress.

“Where the hell have you been?” Leonard snapped, not able to help himself.

Jim smiled, and his other hand took Leonard’s other shoulder, pulling him in to face him steadily. “What do you mean!” he exclaimed, his expression light and unknowing. He clutched his uniform cap where his hand rested on Leonard's shoulder.

Leonard slipped his shoulders from beneath Jim’s warm, firm grip. Although he’d imagined those hands all day, creeping into his muscle memory despite his attempts to focus, the feeling of them was too much. “I’ve been worried sick!” Leonard said, sharply. “You barely got any sleep! You have any idea what that can do to you?” 

Jim chortled. Leonard worrying over him only ever seemed to amuse him, which only made Leonard grumpier. “Relax, Bones,” Jim laughed, and Leonard’s face tensed.

Jim skipped out in front of Leonard, catching the bright streaks of orange sunset where they cast over the campus. “I had class, went back to sleep after,” he answered, with a shrug. “And oh, boy, do I feel refreshed!” Jim said, and spread his arms out wide to the simmering sky. 

“That’s always a good sign,” Leonard grumbled, gripping his briefcase of paperwork tighter as he followed Jim’s merry steps. He folded a smile in the corner of his mouth. It was good to see Jim smiling, and energized, although Leonard wouldn't show it. Jim had managed to create a good day from a long night, and a longer, more exhausting week of class and training. Leonard felt almost relieved that his bad drunken encouragement had turned out, seemingly, without consequences.

“C’mon, Bones,” Jim said, walking backwards, and stopping suddenly. Leonard was brought to a halt in front of him, and his jaw squared. He was awfully close.

“How was your day?” Jim asked, raising a brow. “Work at the clinic wearing you out yet?” He tapped Leonard’s shoulder reassuringly.

_Why_ did he have to be all hands? 

Leonard stared at Jim, kind of captured in his closeness. Well rested blue eyes. Freckled nose. Dark blonde hair combed haphazardly to the side. His face and behavior often evoked someone younger than twenty-six. 

Leonard, on the other hand, felt like he was forty already on most days, despite being twenty-eight. When he saw himself in the mirror he thought he looked older, too. But with Jim, that youthful spirit sometimes rubbed off on him. Like last night, for instance.

“Earth to McCoy?” Jim laughed, now shaking Leonard gently by the shoulders.

Leonard once again shrugged out of Jim’s grasp. “Yes, I’m fine,” he sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Just tired.”

Jim pressed his lips together with doubt. “Okay,” he said, and rocked back and forth from his heels from his toes. The movement brought him even closer to Leonard, and Leonard had to scoot out of the way to keep from having Jim crash into him. His regular sprightly antics, but Leonard was now strikingly aware of his personal space. 

“I don’t really believe you, Bones. Hmmm...” Jim said, like it was hard for him to think of what to do. “I think we need a night out on the town,” he said, and grinned. He slapped Leonard on the back and continued towards the campus green. “Have some bourbon, you can tell me all your troubles." He put his hat back on his head with a flourish and a tap on the top. 

“Sounds alright, I guess,” Leonard said, a smile creeping over his face. It did sound like a good idea, to spend another night drinking and talking with Jim, with no responsibilities (well, in terms of time commitments) to worry about the next day. He felt himself relaxing, just a little bit. When Jim sidled up to him again, Leonard elbowed him gently in the ribs. “You know all the best places.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jim said, and Leonard braved himself to be jostled excitedly again. After the inevitable handsy expression of Jim's joy, Leonard paused in the middle of the paved walkway, and crossed his arms. Now that it was evening and most classes were out, the campus was abuzz with cadets walking in all different directions.

"Did you eat something already?" He asked, in his firm, and gruff, but caring way. He was determined to drag Jim to the dining hall if the answer was no. Even if the line was probably out the door, this time of day.

"Yeah," Jim replied, pausing briefly, but then continuing. "Had me some microwave noodles that Gerald didn't want."

"Oh, come on!" Leonard exclaimed, disappointed, as he trudged after Jim. "Do you have any idea how much sodium those things have? And zero nutritional content," he scoffed. "I swear. I'm putting you down as my roommate next semester. That dumbass is gonna make you malnourished," Leonard muttered, disdainfully.

Another excuse to move in with Jim next year.

Worrying about Jim's health was not a new thing. But, Leonard briefly thought about how codependent they were. Someone had jokingly called them an old married couple, once. Leonard had probably given them a piece of his mind... but, now, it felt all too true.

Leonard kept his eyes down towards his feet, his shoulders sinking with the weight and implications of his thoughts.

Jim smiled, still amused by Leonard's fussing over him. "Hey, don't blame Gerald," he said, innocently. "You know I'm plenty capable of making my own bad, but delicious choices,” he paused once more, giving Leonard no time for a smart comment, because his mouth was open to offer one. "Did _you_ eat?" Jim countered.

"Yes," Leonard said. "I had a salad, thank you very much."

"Bo-ring!" Jim announced, cupping his hands around his mouth. His loudness caused a few cadets to pause and glance his way. Leonard rolled his eyes, and dismissively shook his briefcase at Jim. He was always loving the attention.

“Now," Jim said, and bounced in place. "You gotta go change. You can’t wear that,” Jim said, looking over Leonard’s white medical uniform.

“And you can wear that?” Leonard snorted, gesturing at Jim’s wrinkled red uniform. 

Jim posed. “Women love it,” he said, with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Leonard scoffed. It felt like a rock dropped in his chest. “Especially when most women we’ll run into wear that same damn thing most days of the week.” He gestured at the sea of people dressed in red all around them.

“Good point,” Jim said, with a small grimace. “My dorm’s all the way across campus,” he complained. “Can I borrow something of yours?”

Leonard felt heavy, suddenly, thinking about Jim in his clothes. There was something weirdly intimate about that. He shouldn't allow it, with what he was feeling... but Jim was right, it was fifteen minutes on foot from Starfleet Medical to the other dorms. And the shuttle was five minutes away. Not worth the trip.

“I guess,” Leonard said, reluctantly.

They walked a few minutes, chatting idly, to Leonard’s dorm hall. Mostly Jim blabbing about some cute girl named Uhura who kept shutting him down. And the half-Vulcan she was apparently dating. That was what Leonard could gather from what Jim's chattering, anyway. As always, Leonard listened, and swallowed, then ardently denied his own....jealousy.

They arrived at the building and Leonard key-carded them in, and they took the turbolift to the fourth floor. 

“Your dorm is so much nicer than mine! Man!” Jim said, with such disappointment, as he usually did when they rode the turbolift. Leonard chuckled quietly. It was true. Jim's dorm was still sleek and modern, but much less fancy. Must be something about Starfleet Medical being the cutting edge of all medical science on Earth.

They approached Leonard's room, and he bypassed the security panel with the keycode. As the door slid open, the emptiness indicated that Leonard's roommate, Robert, was still gone. 

“Thank God!” Leonard exclaimed, and tossed his briefcase onto his bed. Robert was supposed to come back anytime that weekend. He was a fellow medical student, utterly incompetent, and a royal pain in Leonard’s ass.

Jim snickered and sat himself down on Leonard’s bed, which was made, but a bit carelessly. Jim’s roommate, Gerald, was a charming alien fellow, according to Jim. But he was always in the room, and Jim liked to be a bit rowdy. Leonard didn't much care for him, and his enabling influences.

“Okay,” Jim said, and clapped his hands together. “Something cool, Bones. Something fun. I can tell you need to let loose a little.”

“When do I not?” Leonard grumbled, mostly to himself, but went to his closet and rooted through the few plain clothes he had brought with him that semester. He pulled out a blue polo shirt and showed it to Jim. 

“No, no,” Jim advised. “More relaxed.”

Leonard showed him a plain t-shirt with his worn brown leather jacket. “This is ridiculous, Jim. I can dress myself,” he said, and rolled his eyes. 

It went without saying... but Leonard always did enjoy the things Jim did for him, secretly. And Jim knew it, too.

“Better,” Jim said, unfazed, crossing his legs and tapping his chin. “Where’s that shirt I got for your birthday?”

“Oh, God,” Leonard groaned. He looked through the shirts, and pulled out the dreaded thing. It stuck out like a sore thumb among his modest earth-toned clothes. It was a colorful coconut-and-banana-printed vacation shirt. Why did he even bring this with him? Even Joanna thought it was silly. She must’ve been the one to pack it for him when he wasn’t looking...

“So glad you like my gift, Bones,” Jim said, dryly, raising a brow. “C’mon, try it on!”

Leonard rolled his eyes again. “Fine, but I can’t imagine wearing this in public.”

He pulled the shirt off the hanger, and grimaced at its blue and yellow patterns. Maybe he had put it in his suitcase after all, just for the sentiment...despite its eyesore. 

As he reached inside his collar and started at the inside button of his uniform’s shirt, Leonard was suddenly very aware of Jim’s eyes on him.

He turned and looked at him, making a little whirling motion with his finger.

Jim blinked, surprised. “What, Bones, you shy?” he scoffed.

Leonard let go of his button and put his hands on his hips, glaring at Jim. He was most definitely shy. The thought of Jim’s eyes on him as he peeled off his shirt caused a wave of heat to pass over him. And it was terrible. Whether this was normal, or just a side effect of his new... epiphany, he wasn't sure.

Jim laughed, teasingly. “Nothing I haven’t seen before!” He declared, but turned around, nonetheless.

Leonard checked to make sure Jim couldn’t see him before he started undoing the few top buttons. He was anxious to get it over with, so he hauled the tight, bright white fabric over his head much more quickly than he should have. He didn’t like the cool blast of air conditioning on his bare back, with Jim in the same room.

How had he changed last night? Oh yeah, he’d already been in his sweats when Jim came over. He didn't usually have to change when Jim was around. Leonard kept pulling at the hem of his shirt, and grunted when it wouldn’t give any further.

“Oh, goddamn it,” Leonard cursed, his arms caught up in the sleeves over his head. Panic fluttered in his throat, and his face went red as a beet. He winced as he saw Jim turn out of the corner of his eye.

Jim was chuckling, and he got to his feet to hurry over to Leonard’s side. “Can dress yourself, huh?” He teased, and reached for the hem of the tight material and began to pull it from Leonard’s arms. He didn’t seem shy about it at all.

Leonard frowned, and felt his face turning hotter, exposed under Jim’s gaze. He had probably seen Leonard half-naked before... but now, Leonard wanted to sink into the floor. Jim was so close again, those wide eyes, and he was so relaxed that it almost hurt to be wound up so tight in his proximity. Leonard’s heart rate picked up in his chest. He made his arms limp and wormed his way from the uniform shirt where Jim held it, and felt like a complete idiot. Once it was off, he snatched it from Jim’s hands and held it up in front of himself to hide his bare chest.

Jim gave him a confused smile, not really understanding the new need for privacy, and made a ‘hurry up’ motion. He sat down again, waiting to see the shirt on Leonard. Leonard gave him a look that could kill, and turned his back to Jim, unbuttoning and shrugging into the absurd shirt. He then re-buttoned it safely to the collar. 

Leonard turned, and gave Jim a sarcastic presentation. “Happy?” he said, and dropped his arms. His face was still immensely flushed.

Jim smiled. “You look hot in that shirt, Bones. Like a whole new man. A man who wants to party,” Jim said, proudly, and walked over to clap Leonard on the back. “But here,” he said, and reached for Leonard’s top button.

Leonard blinked and breathed in, surprised by the sudden touch of Jim’s finger to his throat, almost completely floored by it. As if he wasn't already reeling from Jim offhandedly saying he looked hot. Jim popped the top two buttons, making a V out of the shirt collar to show off the top wisps of Leonard’s chest hair.

“There you go,” Jim said, proudly, and grinned. Now Leonard really looked like he was going to the beach. And, a little bit like he was going to explode.

“Alright, wise ass,” Leonard seethed, thoroughly embarrassed, as he picked up a shirt and the leather jacket, as well as a pair of jeans, and tossed them at Jim. “You get dressed.” 

He told himself that Jim wearing his clothes was just to cater to Jim's suggestion. But really... it might've been because he wanted that easy, indirect closeness. The thought only amplified his irritation.

Jim chuckled as he caught the clothes. “Couldn’t have picked it better myself,” he said, and he sauntered in front of the matching closet, Robert’s, and began to strip there behind the open door of Leonard’s closet.

Leonard immediately jerked his head away and swallowed, knowing Jim had no shame. But he was glad the closet door concealed him. He did his best not to think of Jim as he bumped around on the other side of the wooden door, clumsily changing out of his uniform. Leonard could see him beneath the door, his clothes pooling at his feet. 

Leonard swallowed once more. He was so close to his closet that he was almost in it, as he swiftly got out of his white pants and pulled on some similar blue jeans to the ones he’d given Jim. If only he’d brought more of his rustic Georgia clothes. They were damn comfortable and right for every occasion. Except, maybe, modern living in San Francisco, especially clubbing.

Leonard took a moment to glance at himself in the mirror inside the door, wearing the tropical shirt. He wrinkled his nose. It looked completely wrong for him, and dumb as all hell. But, Jim seemed to think it looked alright...

“Okay, you ready?” Jim asked, as he poked his head out from behind the door. 

“Yeah,” Leonard said, with a huff. “I guess!"

Jim came out from behind the door, and revealed his look. Leonard’s favorite blue jeans which were permanently grass stained in some places, a plain navy blue t-shirt that Leonard sometimes wore to sleep, but was plenty presentable, and of course, the beat up brown leather jacket that he’d had for about ten years. All of it was a bit loose on Jim compared to Leonard. But he looked nice in the clothes, filling them out differently than Leonard would. The sight sent a chill down Leonard’s spine, thinking of the fabric touching Jim’s skin as it had his own, before. He forced a half-smile.

Jim slipped on his cadet boots and grinned, showing off the outfit. “Nice threads, Bones, thanks,” he said, with an appreciative nod. His baby blues were sparkling with excitement.

Leonard nodded and waved his hand to signify it was no problem. Really, he found it too hard to comment on it, and felt like there was something lodged in his throat.

Jim noticed his doubt, although he didn’t know what it was about, and slid over to Leonard. “You’re gonna enjoy this, Bones. If it’s the last thing I do," he flashed a committed smile, and reached out, to pat a hand, in a teasing, and affectionate manner, against Leonard’s cheek. 

Leonard blinked, and went tense in trying not to flinch at the feeling of Jim’s soft hand gently against his face. He ducked away, and Jim's hand was awkwardly displaced from his cheek. God, would the madness ever end? Leonard felt warm, and a little nauseous. He smiled, a little, although his insides were swimming and he was still recovering from the shirt incident, and facing constant whiplash.

“In that case, it might be,” he said, and gave Jim a proper elbowing in return.

Jim chuckled, and transferred his wallet from his uniform to his new jean pockets while Leonard put on a pair of relaxed shoes to go with the damn shirt. Jim had left his red uniform crumpled on the floor.

Leonard shook his head to himself, not knowing how to really prepare himself for the evening, and whatever Jim had planned. He put his uniform on his bed, and left Jim’s where it was, despite the urge to get it off the floor. He grabbed his wallet and keycard, and followed Jim, grumbling, out the door.


	2. i want you here, with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim & Leonard's night out doesn't go exactly as either of them planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter two! i'm having so much fun writing this! please feel free to continue providing feedback, i really appreciate it! <3 the next chapter should be coming soon...

The first club that Jim and Leonard hit was a few blocks from campus. It was the nicest one in the area. It was jam packed with cadets, as per usual, and so the bouncers turned them away. Jim had wanted to check anyway. He was always optimistic that they might get in, one of these times. It was annoying, having to bumble around the city. But Leonard didn't mind just walking with Jim, feeling the cool night breeze. 

The next club they went to was more like a bar, and it was about a mile away from the first one. They walked the whole way, and Jim complained more than once, while Leonard bitterly reminded him that a good walk every day was good for one’s health. They found this club by walking around the streets of San Francisco a bit aimlessly, but with good indicators of nightlife by packs of young people heading that way. 

Not their usual haunt, which was a dive by all standards. No, this place was upscale, and trendy. Not exactly Leonard's scene, but it was a lot quieter than the first place, which was a relief. The current music was something like electric swing, and there were less people cramming the place full. Leonard and Jim went in easily, and looked around at the soft glow of the neon lights, the mirrored ceiling, the decorative sculptures that looked like they were made of ice, but were probably made of crystal.

Jim sat down at the bar, and eagerly patted the stool next to him. Leonard felt like the bartender was looking directly at his bright shirt, and self-consciously scooted into the seat. He thought the embarrassment of it might wear off after about an hour, but it hadn't. 

“Alright, you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Jim said to Leonard, when the bartender looked attentively in his direction.

Leonard gave a nod, and a small smile. He was looking forward to loosening up a little.

“Two bourbons, on the rocks,” Jim said. 

“Sure,” the bartender said, and got to work on making their drinks.

While she did that, Jim turned to Leonard and propped his elbow up on the shiny bar counter. Leonard knew what was coming.

“So, Bones,” Jim began, charging forward with a sigh. “You gonna clue me in on why you’re gloomier than usual? Work at the medical center was tough, huh? Did you get told off or something?” He prodded. 

Leonard snorted, and found it hard to meet Jim's eyes. He did his best to hide the true anxiety from his face, fixed his eyes on the glass bowl of peanuts on the bartop in front of him. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t even sure what was wrong, himself. He shook his head in response.

“No, not exactly. Just was a little off today," he sighed. "No mistakes, of course,” he shrugged. “Steadiest hands, you know," he wiggled his fingers, and Jim, well. Jim smiled brilliantly, likely pleased to have gotten something out of his friend.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Jim said, nodding, the slightest crease forming on his brow. “Training kicked my ass today. And before you get started,” Jim pointed an accusing finger at Leonard, who had opened his mouth to comment. “No, it was not because we stayed up late last night.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, but his face lit up with relief once the bartender finished their drinks, and he got his hands around the glass and took a sip of the sharp, amber liquid. Yes, this would help.

“It was definitely because we stayed up late last night!” Leonard argued, once he’d swallowed. “And drunk, too. I should know better,” he said, sullenly. He nursed his drink, eyes turned down. He certainly was more upset about this than he ought to be, and Jim could tell. 

Jim leaned over and gave Leonard a soft punch on the arm. Leonard bobbed slightly in response, and he flashed Jim a genuinely sorry look.

“Hey,” Jim said, warning him. “Last night was fun, and you know it. So I don’t want to hear it,” he said, raising his chin. Then he took a defensive drink from his own glass. "I know how you are, that you'll get all guilty because you didn't slave away for  _ one _ weeknight," he chided. 

Leonard sighed, deeply. “These are our careers we’re talking about, Jim!” he exclaimed. Perhaps this was good enough a cover for his melancholy. “I’m not a college student anymore, I’m not in medical school. This is real, now.” He drained the last of his drink down to the large ice cube at the bottom. "God knows I've got nothin' else,” he drawled, around a brisk cough, as his throat burned. 

Leonard's shoulders sagged. This was definitely something that consistently bothered him. Throwing himself into his work, and facing the personal tolls, or slipping up one time, even if it didn't really affect anything but his pride. He carried a lot of unwarranted shame around, which Jim knew. 

“Jeez!” Jim exclaimed. “You drank that fast. I guess that’s what we’re aiming for,” he clapped Leonard on the shoulder. Leonard didn’t jump away from the touch this time, and instead just sat still and felt it. “It’s okay, Bones,” Jim said, reassuring, and he squeezed Leonard’s shoulder. “It’s all gonna be fine. You know me, I can bullshit my way through anything.”

Leonard sighed, feeling incredibly sad. It certainly did not  _ feel _ fine. Why he was allowing himself to look this worn out in front of Jim, while the man was trying to brighten him up, he didn't know. Maybe it was just that. He was too tired to react with anger, like he would any other time. At least Jim was right about being able to fly blind into any situation, despite literally  _ anything _ holding him back. Leonard found it consistently difficult to do any real damage to Jim's chaotic ways, even when it was for his own good. 

Jim took a large drink from his glass, clearly trying to keep up. He turned fully in his seat, to face Leonard, because he still had some work to do. Jim's legs were propped up comfortably on the supports of Leonard's bar stool, where he faced front. “Hey!" Jim said, to get Leonard's attention, and he nudged Leonard's stool, making it wobble. Leonard opened his mouth in protest, and met Jim's confident gaze with a weary one. He was wanting to hide his eyes from Jim's, but knew he couldn't get away with that for long. 

"You’re an amazing doctor, and you’re right on track," Jim said, his voice clear and certain. "It's a goddamn rigorous regimen. Work hard, play hard, am I right? It’s okay if you have some  _ fun _ every once in a while," he smiled, trying to elicit some positive change in Leonard's expression. "Besides. You do have something else. You've got Joanna, and, as you damn well know, you've got me," Jim nudged his arm, affectionately, and his eyes, vivid blue, were warm, his smile sweet and goddamn  _ beautiful _ .

Leonard felt the slightest heat growing his throat from the bourbon. He didn’t regret the night before. It truly had been a blessing among a stressful week. He looked at Jim, unguarded, for the first time in a while. He was warmed by the thought of his daughter who did, somehow, love him. But Jim's declaration of friendship was what cracked Leonard's shell, made him offer a small smile, which couldn't be helped. His heart shifted in his chest, reminding him that Jim cared, very much. And it made it twinge, knowing that something was happening to possibly make their bond unequal. “Alright,” Leonard conceded, attempting to shrug away his gloominess. “I guess you’re right."

Jim grinned. “You know I am,” he said, and chugged the last of his drink, but not without a small cringe. It was strong bourbon, not meant to be taken in large swallows. 

“At least for tonight,” Leonard joked, watching the regretful look on Jim’s face. He signaled for the bartender for two more. “You can be right.”

Jim clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Alright, so,” he picked up his new drink once the bartender slid it over to him. “What do you say we scope out this crowd for a dance partner, huh?” he suggested, and smirked.

Leonard felt an instant tense at that. Spending time with anyone else right then felt like a terrible idea. "Jim," he said, unable to help the self-conscious look on his face. "I'm gonna need a few more drinks for that." 

Jim chuckled, knowingly. "Okay, good point," he agreed. He lifted his glass, and clinked it gently against Leonard's, and they both took hearty swigs. 

Thank God Jim didn't think his reluctance was weird. 

After they'd put away a few drinks, Leonard was much more willing to submit to Jim's ideas of fun. And it was much easier to feel his closeness without retreating shamefully into himself. Which, although Leonard couldn't register it, was probably a bad sign.

Jim laughed, and took Leonard by the arm, abandoning their once again empty glasses. The intoxication was setting in, mildly. The two were far from lightweights, as much bourbon as they drank on a regular basis.

"Wait, wait," Leonard said, when they were halfway to the dance floor. He was still nervous, and hesitant to be pulled into the swamp of people. He liked the feeling of Jim's hand where it was, tight around his bare upper arm. He did not like the idea of Jim's skin no longer touching him, even if that was not something he was ready to consciously process. 

The club had filled up a little, and the music was more upbeat, now. He didn't want Jim to slip away from him, and into the arms of some woman. 

Why couldn't this just be like the night before? 

There might have been a time, a while ago, when Leonard would have been more than eager to chat up a pretty lady, and see Jim do the same. He was good at it, after all. As good as Jim was, although in a different way, using his good ol' Southern charm and his smarmy comments. But now... it was not what he wanted, and he had no idea how to justify that.

"Bones," Jim complained. A few steps away from the bar, he seemed to realize Leonard's worries remaining. The reserved look on Leonard's face told him everything he needed to know, for that moment. "Okay, okay," Jim compromised. "You know I won't do this sober, but I think we need it, to get you in the mood," he said, chuckling.

Leonard looked at him, a bit wide-eyed, not really knowing what he meant. Jim came back over and sat on his bar stool, and had to pull Leonard with him back to his own seat. He continued to laugh, and Leonard stared. With Jim, there was no telling.

"Damn it, man, what is it?" Leonard asked, startled. If he meant some kind of stimulant, he was going to get a real chewing out.

Jim had picked up one of the drink menus that was propped up on the bar. "I think we need to get you one of these," he said, bursting with amusement. He was pointing at a tropical-looking specialty margarita. "To go with your look," he teased.

Leonard frowned, but couldn't help a small laugh, just because he was starting to get tipsy. "Alright, fine," he said. That was the bourbon talking. "But only if you get one, too, smartass," He prodded Jim with his elbow. 

Leonard attempted to repress the shame, thinking only of how glad he was to continue drinking, and to sit with Jim by his side, all to himself. Whatever it took to keep things like that, he'd do.

Jim smirked. "Oh, absolutely." Leonard knew Jim secretly liked margaritas, and all sorts of fruity drinks. And, secretly, Leonard didn't mind them, either, even beyond his favorite, the mint julep. But he would never,  _ ever _ admit that without several drinks in him.

Jim ordered two margaritas from the bartender, and sat back happily in his stool. The bartender quickly produced them. Leonard looked, in awe, at the huge glass, filled with fresh fruit, the drink itself a bright pink color, complete with a twisty straw, a little umbrella, and a frosting of salt on the rim.

"You bastard," Leonard said, bitterly, and grimaced at it.

Jim laughed and didn't hesitate to take a sip. "Mmm! You know you love it," he smirked around his straw, his face charming, and bright. Leonard weakened, thinking of how terribly easy it was to be persuaded by him.

Once Leonard had finished his margarita, which was pretty damn quick, the tequila went rapidly to his head. The drink had tasted strongly of it, and only a little bit of the strawberries that had been floating in the bottom. He had no idea what Jim meant when he said it was "tasty". 

Leonard watched, languidly, as Jim distractedly plucked the maraschino cherry from the bottom of his drink and bit into it, and then asked Leonard for his. To which, Leonard guiltily said yes. Leonard moistened his lips and watched, again, as Jim popped the cherry off the stem. He felt woozy, and his voice of reason was incredibly deafened. 

Was he...  _ attracted _ to Jim? He knew Jim was hot, yes, that he was handsome, yes. That he craved his closeness, it seemed so. But that he  _ wanted _ him...?

Leonard swallowed, his throat going dry, as he tipped the huge glass back as if the ice water and soggy strawberries might provide more intoxication. 

Jim suggested tequila shots next, still sensing a hesitance and depressive state in Leonard's demeanor. With that new and abrupt thought on his mind, Leonard couldn't say no. He was desperate to stop thinking this way, hoping somehow more alcohol would dampen the rushing in his ears, the magnetism he was feeling. Usually, tequila was not his drink, but it seemed it was tonight. 

When they received the shot glasses from the now-wary bartender, and she poured the liquid in a swift silver stream, Leonard realized it had been a while since he had done tequila shots. The bartender brought them salt shakers and a plate of limes. 

Jim smacked Leonard excitedly on the back, now getting more uproarious as the alcohol set in. It was definitely not a good idea to do these shots. But Leonard found himself unable to turn away from them, as compromised and confused as he currently felt. Jim certainly was no help.

Jim didn't hesitate to lick the back of his own hand, sprinkle salt over it, taste the salt, throw back the shot, and then squeeze a lime in between his teeth. His face pinched with the sourness, and the sharp flavor of the alcohol. "Woo!" he shouted. He waited expectantly for Leonard to follow suit.

Leonard was frowning, because he really didn't like the idea of licking his own hand. Especially in public. That seemed so unsanitary. 

"C'mon, Bones!" Jim encouraged. He was smiling giddily. His face fell slightly when Leonard gave him a worried look. Leonard's disarmed mind had briefly thought,  _ what if Jim licked my hand for me _ ? 

Awful. That was so much worse. He cringed.

"Ah, Bones," Jim said, softer. "You don't have to. M'sorry," he said. He was being weirdly patient with Leonard tonight. And that kind of made this harder.

Leonard shook his head. "Damn you to hell, James Kirk," he said, his voice strained, and he picked up the glass, throwing back the shot with no chaser at all. 

Jim laughed, and shook Leonard's shoulder. "Yeah!" he said. A few more shots, Leonard taking them dry, and Jim was practically vibrating in his seat.

"Okay, Bones, I think you're ready to dance," he prompted, as he got up, and pulled a hazy-eyed Leonard after him. This time, Leonard let him.

The dance floor was dark, illuminated blue and purple by soft floor lights, and the music was smooth and had a good beat, some kind of hypnotic alien pop. Not Leonard's favorite, but he supposed it would do. He was feeling much more agreeable, after all. He stood awkwardly beside Jim as he began to sway and shuffle his feet.

"It's no square dance," Leonard said, dryly, and made the slightest shuffling movement to match Jim. The lights were flashing over Jim's face, catching unusually in the light blue of his eyes, making him look almost ethereal. 

"There we go, Bones," Jim said, encouragingly, tapping their shoulders together. "Just kinda..." Jim did a bit of a silly head tilt and arm jerk, and laughed. 

Leonard frowned at him. A slight, dumb smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. Jim was just so... so painfully  _ cute _ . 

Jim leaned in to Leonard, and at first, Leonard was afraid of what he was doing. Leaning in to... to  _ what _ ?

"Let's find you a lady, huh?" Jim said, in a low voice, and Leonard was brutally disappointed once more. 

He felt as though his so-called "attraction" to Jim was becoming dangerously obvious. So obvious that Leonard himself was having a hard time ignoring it. Maybe if he kept pretending it didn't exist, it would just go away.

Jim turned from him, and looked towards a woman with a blonde bob, not far from them. She was dancing something fierce, like she didn't have to try at all. Leonard hadn't really noticed, but Jim had been looking at her ever since they'd arrived, and now it hit him like a truck. He should've caught onto that little detail. 

"What about her?" Jim said, quietly, as he kept up his little dance. 

"What  _ about _ her?" Leonard repeated, bitterly. She was beautiful, for sure. But he didn't have any specific desire to pursue her.

Jim sighed, like it should be obvious. "You wanna go talk to her?" he prompted, raising his eyebrows. 

Leonard shrugged his shoulders, wobbled a little where he stood. "Dunno," he said, his brow creased. It might be suspicious, or something of that caliber, for him to say no, wouldn’t it? Jim probably wanted to go dance with her, himself.

"I think you should," Jim suggested. 

"Jim, n--"

Jim impatiently took Leonard by the shoulders and began to lead him over to the woman, and as he did, his hand moved to the small of Leonard's back. Leonard's mouth flew shut, and he blushed, deeply, at the touch, and found it hard to keep his feet from moving. The feeling was like a tingling, rippling through his spine, making his body fall limp. He was certain that Jim meant absolutely nothing by it, but he was now too tipsy to have any other reaction, and it must have been painted clear on his face.

Jim noticed this. "You're embarrassed already, Bones?" Jim said, pausing to murmur in his ear. How did he have no idea the effect he was having? He had grabbed on to Leonard's shoulder to keep himself steady, pressing his face in to talk to him. He got even closer than he normally would, more affectionate than ever when a little bit drunk. "Where's that smart mouth I know so well?" Jim practically whispered, and his voice seemed to carry a bit of genuine concern, and fondness, like he was realizing this newness in Leonard. His lips were almost touching Leonard's ear, he could feel the heat of his breath. Leonard's skin prickled with goosebumps.

Leonard gently squirmed out of Jim's grasp. "Goddamn it!" he cursed, leaning into Jim's personal space this time. He was flustered, and wound up, and prone to lashing out. "I can't just go up to that woman and chat her up. I think you ought to do it," he snapped. 

Immediately, he regretted his words. 

Jim frowned at him, this time. "I've seen you do it plenty of times," he argued, mildly. "But, alright, I'll do it for you," he offered, rolling his eyes, playfully. It seemed that he chose to ignore the unusual change in Leonard, and that he was ready to jump at the chance to charm somebody. 

Little did he know,  _ he goddamn already had! _

Jim paused, and quit leaning against Leonard. "I just want you to enjoy yourself, Bones," he said, softly, and his voice was caring, despite being addled by the alcohol.

Leonard sighed, feeling his brow crumple. Jim's words carried straight to his heart. Just the two of them, alone, was all he needed. But it seemed that was not what Jim wanted: and Jim's enjoyment had been, and always would be, more important to Leonard. Especially right then. 

"Jim," Leonard said, stopping him. "You do what you like. I'm just gonna sit down over here for a minute," he said, his voice sound garbled with emotion. He gestured towards a little sitting area near the dance floor.

Jim gave him an understanding nod, although his eyes were slightly perturbed. But he was too restless for his own good. He took off through the crowd towards the blonde woman. 

Maybe Jim just thought Leonard was a little too drunk for it. He certainly wasn't drunk  _ enough _ , actually. Leonard stared at the back of Jim's head, wishing he could gather some ounce of what was going on in there. He  _ must _ be noticing Leonard's odd behavior. 

Leonard felt even sadder, standing alone on the dance floor for a moment, with people swaying all around him. He looked up at the ceiling, at his warped reflection in the overhead mirror. He scowled at the person there, who to him looked like a complete loser, inconsolable, and not even knowing what he needed. He looked down again, and felt almost completely sapped of energy. He shouldered through the dancers, in the opposite direction from Jim. 

He fought his way through a beaded curtain, and collapsed onto a white leather ottoman, which was accompanied by a coffee table.

He sat there for a few minutes, watched through the partition as Jim approached the woman. At first, she looked annoyed by him interrupting her focus, but once he flashed that smile, complimented her, she seemed more interested. Leonard pressed his lips together as he watched her laugh, and Jim did his silly little dance in her direction, trying to keep up with her fluid movements. Jim might just take it onto himself to pursue her, and good for him, he might as well. 

Leonard settled back against the wall, his head spinning a little, the mirth of the alcohol arriving and receding at different intervals. It felt like several minutes that Jim spoke to the woman without so much as glancing at Leonard. He was beginning anew at the internal battle between self pity and better judgement, when he noticed someone walking up to him.

"Leonard, is that you?" A familiar voice said, and Leonard looked up. 

It was Christine Chapel, smiling, peering through the curtain. And, wearing an outfit Leonard never could have pictured her in. Except maybe when he'd had that brief crush on her, but that was only for a few weeks after he'd first met her, before everything was Jim, Jim, Jim. 

"Oh, yeah," Leonard said, a smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. "It's me. Fancy seeing you here," he said, crossing his arms and holding onto himself, like that may protect him from her inevitable questions.

"You, too," she said, and grinned.

"You look awful nice," he gestured to her tight black bandage dress, her shimmery makeup, her ash-blonde hair styled in a complex updo. His eyes softened. He truly was happy, and relieved, to see her.

Christine laughed modestly, and came over to sit beside him. "Thanks. What are you doing, sitting here alone, Doctor McCoy?" She asked, curiously. Her eyes flickered to his shirt, and she raised an elegant brow.

Leonard shrugged, and snorted. "Jim's over there," he gestured towards the dance floor, where Jim was gently tucking the woman's hair behind her ear to whisper something to her. 

Christine nodded, as she grasped the situation. "He's dancing with Carol Marcus," she observed, with a small laugh. 

"Who, now?" Leonard asked, a little sharpness to his voice. He looked, rather distastefully, in her direction. Not that he really wanted to know anything about the woman currently robbing him of Jim's company. 

"Science track. She's a friend," Christine said, with some affection. She then looked at Leonard's shirt again, her eyes holding a rising question.

"Before you ask," Leonard said, as he followed her gaze. "He made me wear this," he insisted, defensively. He was indeed wearing the stupid thing, and for what?

Christine chuckled softly. "I was gonna say, Doctor, it certainly doesn't seem like you." 

Leonard laughed, at that. Count on Christine to know exactly what to say. "Well, I could say the same for you, ma'am," he said, raising his brows at her getup. 

Christine seemed to blush, and she gently nudged Leonard's arm. It was strange to him, to feel no conflict about someone touching him for the first time that day. 

Leonard felt himself tending towards more honesty than his sober self would allow. "Yeah," he said, with a sigh. "He's trying to cheer me up, or something," he admitted.

Christine smirked at him. "Is it working?" 

Leonard gave her a flat look. "Does it look like it?"

Christine looked at him critically, then. "It depends what was wrong in the first place," she said. Her bright blue eyes searched his face for clues. She really didn't miss anything, did she?

Leonard sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, and then one through his dark hair, ruffling it and making it stand on end. "Couldn't tell you even if I tried," he said, hopelessly. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together.

Christine studied him, probably trying to figure out what that meant. She traced his gaze, which undoubtedly focused on Jim. And then, it dawned on her.

"Oh, Leonard,” Christine said, and gently touched his bare arm where the sleeve of his shirt ended.

“What?” Leonard asked and began to sit up, surprised. That sounded like pity, in her voice. Leonard could feel his walls going up, and panic setting in, even towards a good friend such as Christine. 

Christine shook her head, and then opened her mouth to speak.

"Chris!" A voice said, accompanied by the sound of tall heels on the marble floor. "What do you want to drink?"

Leonard turned and saw a familiar woman approaching them. She was wearing a dark blue halter top and a leather pencil skirt, accompanied by dangerously tall heels, which she strode easily in. And, she was just as damn beautiful as Christine. Christine stood, and smiled, as the woman came to her side. 

It was that Uhura girl that Jim had been complaining about.

Leonard watched, curiously, as Uhura took Christine's arm. "Oh, who's this?" She asked, politely, looking over at Leonard's haphazard appearance, where he slouched on the ottoman. As she tilted her head, her bright green ear hoops dangled, and her dark ponytail swayed.

"Leonard McCoy," he said, dryly. Jim would bounce off the walls if he saw her in here. 

"As you know, we work together," Christine said, fondly. She looked at Uhura, and then at Leonard, with something in her face that Leonard couldn't quite decode.

"Leonard, this is my..." Christine paused, hesitating, and Uhura leaned against her arm. "My girlfriend, Nyota Uhura," she managed, and gave Leonard a proud smile. 

"I've heard a lot about you, Leonard," Nyota said, her expression friendly.

Leonard's mouth fell open. He could hardly compute the kind introduction. He blinked, and then waited a moment, to see if this was a joke, if he was imagining it, if it was just the tequila making him nutty. Christine's face started to get worried. 

"Oh, boy," he said, sarcastically, when nothing changed. "Jim's gonna love this."

Nyota, as Leonard now knew her first name was, frowned slightly. "Jim? Why?" She asked. She unlinked her arm from Christine's, so she could lace their fingers together, instead.

Leonard chuckled, a little, still shocked. And honestly, relieved. "Well, he's crazy about you, isn't he?" he asked. He had been sure that Nyota found Jim to be a nuisance, as he was always trying to flirt with her, wasn't he? That  _ was _ what he had been complaining about before, wasn't it? "I thought he was completely jealous of you and that Vulcan," Leonard said, perplexed.

Nyota laughed in disbelief. "Jim? Crazy about  _ me _ ?" she said, and shook her head. "No way. We're just friends, and he knows I'm seeing Christine," Nyota looked at Christine through her eyelashes, with a clear and free sort of love, untarnished by the environment, or their circumstances.

Leonard's expression was thoroughly confused. Seeing that look that Christine and Nyota shared... it filled him with a strange and longing kind of ache. It was familiar, but beyond his reach.

Christine was frowning, too. "And, we only know one Vulcan," she said, to Nyota. "Did Jim tell you that Nyota was dating Spock?" She asked, wearing the same puzzlement, and a little bit of offense.

Spock, that must be the Vulcan's name. Leonard raised a brow. "No, he just sort of..." he made a vague gesture with his hand. "Implied, I guess." Leonard rubbed a finger over his chin, and looked at the floor, which was fuzzy in his vision. He looked back up at the two women. "What the hell's going on here?" he asked. Was he just  _ stupid _ ? 

Christine's smile returned, surprised, but amused by the misunderstanding. "Spock's just our friend, and he's Nyota's instructor," she said, and chuckled.

Nyota laughed softly. "Yeah. I do love him dearly... but not,  _ that _ way," she said.

Leonard threw his hands in the air. "Am I a damn fool, then?" he exclaimed. He wanted to apologize, but was too caught up in the mistake. 

Christine shook her head. "You're not a fool, Leonard," she said. Nyota exchanged a look with Christine, some sort of secret understanding that Leonard was not privy to. 

"Well?" he asked, impatiently, like he was on the cusp of hearing some kind of revelation.

Nyota was about to speak, when they were interrupted,  _ again. _

Leonard looked over, surprised, to see none other than the blonde woman, Carol Marcus, ducking through the beads, and strolling over to join their conversation. She was wearing a backless sheath dress, dark purple and reflective. She looked like a vision.

Leonard looked at her, with wide eyes. "Jim," he said, under his breath. Goddammit. He must have not decided to pursue her, after all. 

So where was he?

Carol smiled at him, then at Christine and Nyota. "Hi! Didn't think I'd see you guys here," she said, with fond surprise.

Nyota smiled, slightly confused as to this turn of events. It seemed she had also expected Carol to continue chatting with Jim. "Hey, Carol. Other place was too full," she said. "But this is a nicer scene, don't you think?"

Christine grinned. "Carol!" She said, happily. "How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you, Christine?" Carol said, pleasantly. She looked a little bit uncomfortable by all the people standing around. Jim had, undoubtedly, sent her over here under flirtatious pretenses.

"Great," Christine said, and laughed, and it seemed it was mostly because of how awkward things had become.

Carol nodded with approval, and then looked at Leonard, expectantly. "Hi," she said. She gave him a tiny wave.

Leonard gave her a distracted nod of acknowledgement. "Hi, how are ya," he said, somewhat dismissively. He was peering around her shoulder, trying to locate Jim, the source of all of this chaos. 

"You still want that drink?" Nyota asked Christine, while Leonard gave Carol a forced smile.

"Yeah," Christine said, with urgency. Leonard almost didn't want them to leave.

"Good to see you, Carol," Nyota said. Holding Christine's hand in hers, she pulled her through the curtain, towards the bar. "Have a great night!"

"Bye!" Christine said. As she left, she gave Leonard a strange, apologetic sort of look.

Once they were alone, Carol gave Leonard a shy, but flirtatious smile. "May I?" she asked, gesturing at the empty seat next to Leonard. 

"Oh, yeah," he said, flustered, and still scanning the crowd for Jim's silhouette. The damn beaded curtain made this area feel all too private. He scooted over to give Carol more room. "Where'd, uh, where'd Jim go?" he asked her, frowning, and knowing he must sound really rude.

"Oh, uh," Carol said, tucking a stray strand of her golden-blonde hair behind her ear, as she sat down. "I don't know, maybe to get another drink?" she suggested.

She was really cute. Leonard couldn't help noticing that. She had a pretty smile, and her accent was adorable. Leonard chuckled softly, rubbing his forehead nervously. His eyes glanced to the bar, but Jim wasn't there, either. 

"So, Jim was singing my praises, huh?" Leonard asked, to bide his time. Maybe soothe some of this stiffness between them. He had nearly reached his threshold for discomfort.

"Well, yeah," Carol said, with a little laugh. "More like, singing my praises, that you, uh, sang," she sighed, and then laughed awkwardly. "Sorry," she clasped her hands together.

Leonard leaned back, his jaw working. "Oh, it's okay, I know that you mean," he said, smoothly. "Usually, I don't uh," he said, and bit the inside of his lip. "I don't send someone else to do my sweet talking."

Carol blushed, and crossed her legs. "That's okay. I liked what you said, anyway," Carol said, and gave him a small smirk.

Leonard cleared his throat, feeling his face redden in complete embarrassment. He had to stop leading this girl on. Where the fuck was Jim? 

"What, uh," Leonard began, raising a brow. "What'd he say, that I said?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

Carol blushed deeper. Oh, God. That couldn't be good. "He just said you liked my outfit," she said, and shrugged. That definitely was not everything.

"Oh, yeah," Leonard laughed, like he really had made that comment to Jim. She  _ did _ look nice. "I do. You've got a good, um, fashion sense," he stumbled.

Carol giggled. "Thank you," she said. She gave him a languid look, combing over his shirt, the coconuts and bananas, the unbuttoned collar, his exposed bronzed skin. "I, actually like yours, too," she laughed.

"Oh, really?" Leonard said, looking at her with genuine surprise. "You're probably the only one," he said, and rolled his eyes. 

Carol laughed again, and as she moved, her fingers gently rested atop Leonard’s, where they were practically clenching the leather cushion of the ottoman. "Oh, sorry," she said, and flinched her hand away. But then she looked more closely at his hand. "You know, your friend Jim, he also told me," she began, giving him an expertly coy look. "That, well, you've got the steadiest hands at the academy.” 

Leonard sighed and laughed through his teeth for a moment. "Oh, did he?" 

Damn, she was good. Almost as good as him. Carol murmured some affirmation, and leaned a little closer to him.

Leonard stiffened beside her, and made no move to encourage her closer, like he might've some other time. Some other time that he could hardly remember, at this point. "Uh," he coughed, frightened of what might happen if he didn't get out of there. "You sure you didn't see where Jim went?" he asked, again, and a bit of desperation seeped into his expression.

Carol seemed slightly put off my Leonard's question, which he was glad for. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't," she said, with a brief frown. "Is something wrong?" She asked, and she looked suddenly embarrassed.

"No, um," Leonard said, and gave her a smile. "Nothing's wrong. You're lovely. I just have to," Leonard got up, anxiously, and his eyes were deeply apologetic. "I've just gotta ask Jim something," he said, reassuringly. "You hold tight, sweetheart," it just sort of came out. He  _ really _ would feel bad if he made this nice woman suffer along with him. 

Jim, however, he didn't mind harassing. 

Carol nodded, looking a little confused, but not as disconcerted as before. "Alright," she said, and smiled. 

Leonard turned around, and pushed furiously through the damned beads. He went towards the bar, carding a hand through his dark hair. It had been neatly combed earlier that evening, and now it was all disheveled, and standing on end. Nyota and Christine were sitting together, tossing back neat whiskeys and sharing a moment.

Leonard barreled over to them, just out of sight and earshot of Carol. "Ahhh, fuck," he breathed out, once he got his hands on the bar and leaned there, and they both looked at him in alarm.

"You okay, Doc?" Christine asked, although she already seemed to know the answer.

"No, damn it, m’not," Leonard said, in a low and harsh voice. "Jim sent this gorgeous woman over to talk to me, but I," Leonard panted slightly, not even realizing he'd run out of breath. He couldn't gather the words or the thoughts, and just shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "Where's the sonofabitch? Did either of you see where he went?" he demanded.

"Oh, well," Nyota said, surprised, as she looked around, and then gestured towards the bathrooms. "There he is," she said. Jim was walking out, shrugging Leonard's jacket back on his shoulders. Leonard could feel Nyota looking at him with that same type of pity, or understanding that Christine had, and it only made him prickle further. 

"Leonard, I think--" Christine began, but Leonard didn't hear the rest.

Leonard stomped over to Jim and grabbed him by the jacket, and pulled him away from Nyota and Christine, still just out of sight of Carol. 

"Woah, Bones, what's wrong?" Jim laughed, surprised by the sudden manhandling. "I saw you talking to Carol. Looked like it was going great," he said, and beamed. "I was gonna tell you real quick, but this really cute Orion girl caught my eye and," Jim chuckled, and wiped what looked like a lipstick stain from the corner of his mouth. He was breathing quickly, his face flushed and excited. "She's coming back in a minute so I'm glad you caught me, what's up?"

_ Typical _ . Leonard was looking at Jim, his hazel wide, the green particularly cutting in that moment, framed by a dark expression. His control slipped as the envy lanced viciously through him. His breath came through his nose in a sharp whistle. For once, he didn't even know what to say. He became aware of how hard he was grasping the jacket, the way it was pulled taut over Jim's hip, and he let go. 

Had Jim just been trying to get rid of him?

"Bones," Jim prompted, looking over Leonard's expression. His face fell, with concern. "Bones, what's--"

"I gotta go," Leonard barely got out. And then he was walking past Jim, towards the entrance of the bar, feeling completely blinded, and stupid as all hell. 

"Bones, hey," Jim argued, but it was faint to Leonard's ears. "Hey, what the hell-- what's wrong? What are you doing?" 

Leonard kept charging forward. "Removing myself from this goddamn bitch of a situation," he grumbled. His mind was spinning, and his stomach was tied into painful knots. All of Leonard's tension was coming out now in a saddened fury, and the alcohol content in his blood was reaching peak saturation. He noted this with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth.

"Hey!" Jim exclaimed. He jumped into Leonard's warpath, and put his hands on his chest. "Hey, stop! Bones, quit it!" Jim's voice was pleading, now, and he was getting worked up, resisting against Leonard's steps. Leonard grunted as he felt the impact of Jim's hands on his chest, pushing back. Is this what he had to do, to get him to touch him again?

"Quit what, jackass?" Leonard hissed, drunkenly, shoving Jim out of his way. "Believing every lie you tell me?" His eyes were hard, and heated, hiding his glaring insecurity. The flash of hurt in Jim's soft blue eyes felt like a punch in the gut. But he couldn't stop. "Just want me to enjoy myself, my ass!"

Jim was speechless. 

"And here I was, thinking..." Leonard began, and couldn't bear to finish. He shook his head. This was so stupid. And he couldn't believe he was saying any of it.

And then, with Jim shocked and out of the way, he continued out the door, and into the street, disoriented and stumbling. 


End file.
